


A Game of Guinness Telephone

by Husaria



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Awkward Flirting, Bars and Pubs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 02:16:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17634125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Husaria/pseuds/Husaria
Summary: A stranger with a cat on a leash buys Seán a pint at a pub...and promptly leaves before Seán can talk to him.





	A Game of Guinness Telephone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Felicja_Julieanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felicja_Julieanne/gifts).



“Evening, Al.” 

Seán shrugged off his coat and hung it on the hanger by the door. A few regulars sat around the long bar and in the booths watching rugby. Some nodded their head at Seán in acknowledgment. A white Pomeranian laid down patiently between a chair and the bar. 

“Oh howdy, Seán.” Alfred’s voice sounded out of place in this Victorian pub with its dark wooden and stained glass finishing. His accent came straight from Texas. 

“The regular, please,” said Seán. 

Seán turned his attention to the screen. The Six Nations tournament would be coming up in a few weeks. Ireland would play England first. He figured he’d have to get to the pub an hour or so before the game or else it would be too packed to find a spot. 

Alfred returned with another Guinness. 

Seán blinked. “Thanks, but I’m not even done—” 

“Oh, I know,” said Alfred. “This is from—” He gestured towards an empty barstool at the end of the car. “—he just left.” 

Seán swiveled around to look at the front door. “Who left?” 

“Some guy. He ordered you a Guinness. I…I thought he wanted to talk to you.” 

“Who was he?” 

“Beats me,” said Alfred. “First, he asked if we carried…a…I can’t even pronounce it and then just ordered a Guinness. I _think_ we carry the beer he mentioned…Do we—?” 

Seán sipped his stout. “Did you get a name?” 

“Nope. Had an accent. I think he was Polish.” 

“What’d he look like?” 

“A bit shorter than you. Blond. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five. Oh, and he had a white cat with him.” 

Seán recalled the dog at the bar. “A cat? I swore I saw a white dog.” 

Alfred frowned. “No, sir, it was definitely a cat. A very fluffy white cat.” 

“Hmm.” Seán set his pint glass down. “Can you definitely recognize him the next time you see him?” 

“The guy with the cat? Yup. Why?” 

“Is he a regular?” 

“I’ve seen him around a few times. I don’t know his name though.” 

“Well when you do, can you buy him a Guinness from me?” Seán pulled out his debit card. “And maybe ask his name?” 

“Oh?” Alfred grinned, taking his card. “Are you interested?” 

Seán tried not to blush. He had not tried to get back on the dating scene for a while. The most he had dating-wise were a few one-night stands. “What the worst that could happen?” he said. 

“What _is_ your type anyway?” said Alfred. “You seemed the type to go after rugged Scots.” 

“And how many rugged Scots have _you_ met?” 

“More than you.” 

Seán rolled his eyes. 

He normally went to the bar once a week. He had to get up for work early across town and could only manage to come to the pub on Fridays and weekends. 

“Hello, Seán,” said Alfred. “I wondered when you were going to swing by.” 

Seán sat down on his normal stool. “You know I always come on Fri—” 

“Here.” Alfred placed a cold pint of Guinness in front of him. 

Seán looked at the glass. “But I haven’t paid for anything yet?” 

“No, sir,” said Alfred. “Feliks bought you this.” 

“Feliks…” 

“That’s the guy’s name,” he said. “And he wanted to buy you a Guinness.” 

_“Really?”_ said Seán. He took a sip. “You got a name out of him.” 

“Yeah. He was a bit too shy to say much else.” 

“Did he seem interested?” 

“In what, you? He bought you a Guinness.” 

“Did you learn anything else about him?” 

“Not really? I told you he’s a shy one.” 

“Damn.” He should have asked Alfred to get his number. He had a project on Friday for work that he needed to finish, complete with a presentation. And Saturday was… 

“Alfred.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Tell him that—” Seán fiddled with a penny in his jeans pocket. “Next time you see him, tell me to meet me here at the bar an hour before the Ireland-England match next Saturday.” 

“Will do,” said Alfred with a small smile. “You’re not going to come over on Friday?” 

Seán shook his head. “I’m not sure if I can.” 

“Why not?” 

“Well…” 

Alfred kept smiling. 

Seán scowled. “What?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Alfred—” 

“I’ve never seen you like this with anyone. You barely know what this guy looks like.” 

“I saw him once!” Seán exclaimed. “If he’s kind enough to keep buying me drinks…” He forgot the last time someone bought him a drink. 

“Anyway I’ll tell him to meet you here. Uhh, you okay?” 

Seán felt jittery in the week leading up to the match. He had finished the project for work, which eliminated most of his anxiety, but his heart raced thinking of meeting the 

_You’re not going on a date_ , Seán told himself, buttoning up a smart blue shirt. He snapped a watch onto his wrist. Should he put some gel in his hair? No, he’d look too stupid. 

_You don’t know if this is going to go anywhere._

The Green Dragon was only a few streets away from Seán’s flat. He took a deep breath. The pub started to fill up despite his being early. All of the screens played the pregame commentary before the match. 

He scanned the bar. He couldn’t see anyone matching Feliks’ description. 

“He’s not here yet,” he told Alfred. 

“Give him a chance, Seán.” 

“What if he doesn’t show up?” 

“He will.” 

“You told him to meet me here, right?” Seán said. “You didn’t get the date wrong or anything?” 

“I told him all the right info,” said Alfred. “He’ll be here. Do you need a shot to calm yourself down?” 

Seán took a deep breath. “No,” he breathed out. “I think I’ll be fine.” He glanced at the barstool next to him. With more people entering the pub for the game, someone would occupy it sooner or later. 

A man occupied a stool next to him. “H-Hello. Two Żywiec please.” 

Alfred smiled widely. “Coming right up.” 

The man was just as Alfred described him—shoulder-length blond hair, a little bit shorter than Seán, looked to be about his age. He had painted his nails with a pale pink nail polish. 

“Are you…?” 

“The guy who keeps buying you Guinness? Yes.” He played with his hair a little. “That’s me.” 

Seán held out his hand. “I’m Seán.” 

The man smiled slightly. “I’m Feliks.” 

“You’re the Feliks I keep hearing about. Where’s your cat?” asked Seán. 

“Ah…he’s at home. I think it’d be a bit too crowded for him, especially with the match going on.” Feliks’ eyes darted nervously around the filling room. 

“Yeah, it’s probably not the best environment for a cat.” 

A loud boom of laughter came up from the other side of the bar. Feliks looked down. 

Alfred came by and placed two bottles of Żywiec. He grinned at Seán, who scowled to shoo him away. 

Seán tried to pronounce the name. “Zha…Zee…” 

“Żywiec,” Feliks said perfectly. 

“Yes, that,” Seán said. He turned over the bottle. “It’s a Polish beer. Are you Polish?” 

“Yes,” said Feliks. 

“From where? In Poland, I mean.” 

“Gniezno.” 

Seán stared at him. “Gnie…zno…?” 

Feliks smiled a little. “You got it!” he exclaimed. “It’s a small city in western Poland. It’s by Poznań.” 

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard of Poznań.” 

“Gniezno is about an hour away from it,” Feliks continued. “It was the first capital of Poland.” 

“Really?” asked Seán. “I thought that was Kraków?” 

“Kraków _is_ a former capital. Gniezno was the first one.” 

“Huh.” Seán knew very little about Polish history. 

He turned the bottle over. “This is good.” 

“Have you had Żywiec before?” 

“No,” said Seán. “I had no idea that Alfred even stocked this beer.” 

“He doesn’t.” 

Seán raised his eyebrows. “So how did he…?” 

Feliks blushed. “I paid him to.” 

“You _paid_ him.” 

“He didn’t have it the first time I wanted to buy you a drink!” Feliks blurted out quickly. “So I…asked him to buy some from the Polish shop in the neighborhood.” 

“Did…did you…?” As odd as it was, Seán felt touched by the gesture. 

“Uhh yes I did.” Feliks fiddled with the wrapper on the bottle. “Do you like it? It’s one of my favorites.” 

“It’s good.” Seán set down his bottle. He was nearly done with it. 

Feliks looked around the full pub and seemed to shrink into himself. 

“Do you want to go outside?” Seán offered. 

“Don’t you want to watch the game?” Feliks asked, glancing at the television screens. “Doesn’t it start in a few minutes?” 

Seán waved away his words. “I’ll probably get notifications for it on my phone.” 

“Are you sure?” asked Feliks. “I don’t want to keep you away from rugby.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” 

As expected, the other pubs on the road were filled with game watchers smoking and drinking, some out in the middle of the sidewalk. The volume outside was the same as in Alfred’s pub. 

“Say, Feliks—” 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you okay if we go to dinner someplace else?” 

“D-Dinner?” 

“Ahh…” Seán scratched the back of his head. Was that too fast for Feliks’ taste? Should he have asked him to go to a café instead? “You don’t have to—” 

“What kind of food were you thinking?” 

Seán blinked. He didn’t think he’d get that far. “I’m…not sure. Are you a fan of Italian?” 

“Yeah!” exclaimed Feliks. “I like Italian food.” 

“There’s a lovely restaurant a few blocks away from here. Does that sound alright to you?” 

“That…That’s fine,” said Feliks. “It’s just…you know since I’ve moved here…I haven’t really tried going out…” 

“Oh…That’s okay. Aside from the pub, I never really go out.” 

Feliks’ eyes brightened. “What, really? But you’re…” 

“But I’m what...?” 

Feliks’ face turned redder and he looped Seán’s arm through his. “Where’s that Italian restaurant again?” 


End file.
